Special Interview with the Spirit Detectives!
by White Pepper
Summary: When a hopeless teacher caught sight of the Yu Yu Hakusho manga, his life would never be the same. All journalists in the journalism club are fictional, original characters, but I promise they won't stay long in this story.


**A/N: This is just a prologue scene to give you the idea of what on earth is going on and why did anyone even thought of interviewing YYH characters.**

**IF YOU ONLY WANT TO READ THE INTERVIEW, PLEASE SKIP TO CHAPTER 2 (Which isn't available yet)**

**Everything I wrote here is 100% impossible. All members of the journalism team are fictional characters, and they are OCs. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. And I don't own YYH, anyway.**

Chapter 1: Prologue

Only thirty minutes left until the final bell. The ceiling fan spun fast over the heads of ten sweating, unenthusiastic students sitting on plastic chairs around the circular wooden table in the Meeting Room. Some were scribbling, doodling, and someone was even reading a comic book. Forgotten by his students, in front of the room, a fat, bald, handlebar-mustached teacher stood straight, observing his students with eyes of molten rage.

SLAM.

The bald Mr. Adams slammed his hands down on the wooden table, _almost_ splitting the table into two parts for the third time that week. Everyone else in the room jumped, and the comic book flied from the boy's hands. Mr. Adams inhaled dramatically.

"DO ANY OF YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT THE FATE OF OUR JOURNALISM CLUB? WE'RE ALMOST DEAD, I MUST SAY! DEAD!" cried Mr. Adams with fists clenched like a politician running a campaign. "EVEN THE SCHOOL DOESN'T PAY ATTENTION TO OUR MONTHLY MAGAZINES! DON'T ANY OF YOU EVEN KNOW—"

"—how hard you tried to get this journalism club started. Yeah, we know that, sir." chorused the students lazily. "Face it, sir. This club was a failure from the start. Everybody here in this room would have never joined if only you didn't threaten to deduct our final score, right?"

"Brace yourself, sir. We've never even published any useful or interesting articles," said the head editor. "Look at our recent articles. "How to brush your teeth properly", "how to make our shoelaces stay tied all day", "How to decorate eggs", and all other the nonsensical rubbish," she continued, "_Please_, sir, we're in _high school_."

"HOW _DARE_ YOU SPEAK THAT WAY TO YOUR TEACHER?" Mr. Adams roared indignantly. "HOW _DARE_ YOU CALL MY IDEAS RUBBISH?" he began to pant. "Miss Tsubaki Matsumoto, get out! OUT! NOW!"

"Fine, _fine_," Tsubaki hissed, "I've never really wanted to be here, anyway. Now I can spend my spare time properly," she said expressionlessly while packing her laptop and papers away. "Oh yeah, one more thing," said the ex-editor before she turned the door handle. "You're never a good teacher, nor a good journalism coordinator," and she slammed the door closed.

"Right. Now _that_ was a bad example—"

Mr. Adams' sentence was cut by all the journalism club members standing up altogether.

"Seriously, sir, are you even qualified to be a teacher?" said one of the photographers scornfully. "You've _never_ listened to whatever we said!"

"So, you think a teacher never makes any mistakes, sir? What _are_ we to you? Students or slaves?" shouted the reporter-in-chief, followed by loud YEAHs from the others. "You're supposed to help us, not just lecture us. WHY do you always think that we're the ones who always make all the mistakes?"

"We all support Tsubaki, sir," chorused them all.

They all packed away their papers, books, and laptops, and strutted away briskly. Mr. Adams fell limp on his chair.

"They're right," sighed Mr. Adams to himself. He stared around the classroom with a hopeless face until he caught sight of the open comic book on one of the vacant chairs. Mr. Adams approached the chair curiously, picked up the comic book, and began to read.

"What's this? Yu Yu Hakusho? When'd… where'd… Where have I read this before?" stuttered Mr. Adams, his expression unclear. In a matter of seconds, Mr. Adams' expression lightened, his eyes shining, and he began to sweat badly. "Ooh, yes… Nobody has ever done this… Ooh, perfect…" he murmured, rubbing his palms together.

BANG

Mr. Adams slammed his hands on the table again, this time shaking. He slowly lifted his head and laughed like a mad scientist.

"EVERYONE!" shouted Mr. Adams as if speaking in a Human Rights campaign, but without any audience. "I'M GOING TO INTERVIEW THOSE SPIRIT DETECTIVES, AND PROVE TO MY STUDENTS THAT I'M NOT WORTHLESS!"

Mr. Adams dialed a certain number on his cell phone.

"Hello, Ms. Operator. I would like to speak to Mr. Koenma, please."

**A/N: Maybe it's a little weird to you that students can say such things to a teacher (Please excuse me, if you're a teacher) but in my school, that kind of walk-out is common enough.**

**Sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, or wrong uses of vocabulary. Please kindly inform me of such errors by reviewing this chapter. Thank you.**


End file.
